Suffer the Little Animals
by Tuesday Mourning
Summary: Blanca, Lobo, and eight other animals set out for a vacation to Camp Crystal Lake... but only one will come back alive. Rating may change due to mutilation of little fuzzy animals.
1. Part One: A Prophecy of DOOM!

Suffer the Little Animals

An Animal Crossing/Friday the 13th Crossover

Part One

Author's Notes:

            So, I decided to take a break from my Nightmare on Elm Street fan fiction that I was writing, (which is shaping up to be more of a drama/horror story) and I thought I'd write something that was funny rather than serious. 

            This story has changed shape a lot. Originally it stemmed from a dream that I had which was a strange blending of Resident Evil and Animal Crossing, only the animals were zombies created by Mr. Resetti, and Jill Valentine and Totokeke had to team up to defeat them. I had toyed with the idea of writing it as best I could remember, but the last story I wrote that came from a dream I had wasn't very good. Just very strange. And it had no plot.

            I then considered doing an Animal Crossing/Evil Dead crossover, and have the little animals turn into deadites, and have Ash blow them away with his mighty Boom-Stick. But then I finally watched Freddy vs. Jason, and a sick, twisted idea came into my head. Why not send the animals to Camp Crystal Lake? More people are familiar with Jason than Ash, and unlike the Evil Dead series, there's not really much of a plot besides Jason killing people. (See why I couldn't have this story in the Friday the 13th category?) But then, I suppose one could argue that's the same of most horror movies, but this is my story, so shut up.

            I usually don't write in "Hyperfan," as it is rather un-professional. But it's oh so tempting. Besides, I don't feel like writing in prose. So there. I unclog my nose at you. 

            If you don't like this story, don't summon the bees on me or decapitate me with your golden shovels and then bury me under your houses with the said shovel for good luck. I never did nothin' to you. Except eat all your first-born children. They were de-lish-oussssss... 

            With that said, on with the story!

                                                            *          *          *

            Totokeke: _(strumming a guitar in a dark room, under a single, bare light bulb. He looks up at the readers.)  _Hey, dudes. I was just chillin'. Playin' gigs all night can make a dog… well… dog-tired. You wanna hear me spin a yarn for ya?

            Children: _(Off screen)_ Yeah!

            Totokeke: Cool. Let's boogey, then. _(Strums guitar again and sings.)_

            Ten animals went on a train,

            On a fateful Friday morning.

            Little did they know that the next day,

            Would be a day of mourning!

            _(We now see Blanca, the faceless cat, wandering around town, perhaps waiting for the train. She walks by a fortuneteller's tent. She then stops, and jumps and squeals in joy. We can only assume it is her squealing, because, being faceless, she has no mouth. She happily skips to the tent and pokes her head in, seeing a mysterious panther over a desk cluttered with tarot cards, gold coins, and a crystal ball.)_

            Blanca: _(Very loudly) HI!_

            Panther: AUGH! MY HEART! _(Collapses, clutching her chest.)_

            Blanca: _(Stares at the panther.) Um… are you all right?_

            Panther: _(Pulls herself up so that she is seated at the desk, her large eyes bulging from her head.) A pox upon your first born, you son of a motherless goat!_

            Blanca: I sorry. But I am a girl. And I'm not a goat.

            Panther: _(Squints at Blanca.) I see. What happened to your face?_

            Blanca: Oh, lukey-dukes! My face came off again, didn't it? Can you draw me another one, real quick?

            Panther: Hmm. I suppose. But that'll be an extra 50 bells. I assume you want me, the great Katrina, to read your fortune?

            Blanca: Yesh. And draw me a face real quick, okay?

            Katrina: Very well. _(Grabs a quill pen from her desk, and quickly draws a photo-realistic picture of Gary Coleman's face.) So, do you want me to tell your friggin' fortune or not?_

            Blanca: Okay! _(Hands Katrina a little bag of 100 bells.) Tell me my fortune, oh mighty drawer-of-faces-and-such!_

            Katrina: Whatever. _(Stares into the crystal ball.)  Kee-ya-mo-ta… Kee-ya-mo-ta… KEEYA! __(Light bulb appears over her head.) Ahem. I am through._

            Blanca: Oh, happy day!

            Katrina: In a Japanese bath house… Donald Trump… will be spanking… a man in a squid costume…

            Blanca: What in the gay blue heck is that supposed to mean?

            Katrina: It means… oh, Jesus Christ on a pogo stick…

            Blanca: What?

            Katrina: _(Eyes turn completely white, and speaks in a demonic child's voice) Don't go to Camp Crystal Lake…_

            Blanca: Neat trick! You gotta teach me to do that!

            Katrina: SILENCE! I said don't go to Camp Crystal Lake!

            Blanca: But I already paid for train tickets to go there. 

            Katrina: _(Head starts to spin, while white foam pours out of her mouth like bubble bath.) Jason Voorhees will kill you all… one by one… and you shall all burn in the ETERNAL FLAMES OF HELL!_

            Blanca: Okay, that's kinda creepy.

            Katrina: _(Floating high above Blanca.) Do not go… do not go… DO NOT GO!_

            _(A train whistle blows in the distance.)_

            Blanca: Oh! That's my train! Well, I gotta go! Love you, bye!

            Katrina: YOU STUPID KITTY! I TRY AND GIVE YOU AN OMINOUS WARNING OF YOUR VERY DOOM, AND YOU IGNORE ME! I HOPE JASON KILLS YOU FIRST! DAMN YOU! DAMN YOU TO HELL!

            Blanca: _(Has already left the tent.)_

            Katrina: … Oh, nutbunnies.

            Blanca: _(Running up to the train station, sending other animals trying to board flying in every which direction, while they hurl German obscenities in her direction. A monkey conductor stops her.)_

            Conductor: Do you have a ticket, Mr. Coleman?

            Blanca: Excuse me? Who is Mr. Coleman. I'm a girl!

            Conductor: Um… yeah… right… anyway,  do you have your ticket?

            Blanca: Right here, biz-natch! _(Slaps a ticket into the conductor's monkey paw.)_

            Conductor: Um… right… _(Tears off part of the ticket and hands Blanca the stub.) Do you need help finding you seat?_

            Blanca: Whatchu' talkin' 'bout, Willis?

            Conductor: _(Snickers, obviously trying not to laugh too hard.)_

            Blanca: … What?

            Conductor: It's nothing… tee hee… just, um, find your seat. Hee hee hee hee…

            Blanca: … Whatever. _(Boards the train while the Conductor finally succumbs and bursts out in hysterical laughter. She looks around, looking for an empty seat. She spots one, then scuttles over to it, as the other animals on the train do surprised double takes. She sits down next to a grumpy-looking wolf.)_

            Blanca: _(Stares at the wolf.)_

            Wolf: _(Grumbles something to himself, trying to ignore her.)_

Blanca: _(Stares harder, leaning towards the wolf.)_

Wolf: _(Shields his face from Blanca with a paw.)_

Blanca: _(Leans even closer, so that she is literally breathing down the neck of the grumpy-looking wolf. She starts to breathe in a way that sounds like a mix between Michael Myers and Darth Vader.)_

            Wolf: WHAT IN GOD'S NAME IS WRONG WITH YOU? _(Waving arms in pure, wolf-y anger and grumpiness.)_

            Blanca: Ha! No one can withstand my awesome staring powers!

            Wolf: Oh, really?

            Blanca: Yeah. I can stare down a cactus.

            Wolf: … I'm not even going to dignify that with a comment.

            Blanca: I am Blanca! What is your name, Mr. Grumpy Man?

            Wolf: … It's Lobo. Now, why don't you go drink some bleach or something?

            Blanca: Sounds like fun! Are you going to Camp Crystal Lake too?

            Lobo: Yeah, so?

            Blanca: Yay! It shall be fun, or I will go jump in the lake while tied to a rock.

            Lobo: It better be fun. I paid good bells for these tickets.

            _(Meanwhile, somewhere else, Crazy Redd is in his Black Market tent, counting bells happily while humming to the tune, "We're in the Money.")_

            Crazy Redd: Suckers!

            _(Back on the train, the whistle blows, and the train has started to go into motion. Blanca has started to jump up and down excitedly in her seat, while Lobo regards her with mild amusement.)_

            Blanca: Now is the happy time for you and me!

            Lobo: Tell me, did you forget to take your medication before you left?

            Blanca: What medica- HEY!

            _(The train is now departing from the station, blowing out clouds of smoke, as Totokeke sits with the conductor, strumming his guitar.)_

            Totokeke: _(Whistles for a bit, then sings.)_

            So Blanca set out on her fateful trip,

            With her grumpy friend Lobo,

            But will she ever make it back?

            Jason might kill her, oh no! _(Stops singing.)_ Stay tuned for part two of… Suffer the Little Animals!

            Children: Yay!


	2. Part Two: Vomit, Pickaxes and Outkast!

Suffer the Little Animals

Part Two

            Totokeke: _(Sitting on the back of a caboose, strumming a guitar, and, of course, singing.)_

            We come back to our friend Blanca,

            Who is riding on the train,

            And is experiencing

            Some gastro-intestinal pain.

            _(We go back to Blanca, who is still wearing the Gary Coleman face. She is holding her stomach and moaning, apparently in great pain.)_

            Blanca: Ooooog… my insides… they are… hurtful somehow…

            Lobo: Maybe you shouldn't have put all that mayonnaise on that complimentary bucket of fried clams you just ate. 

            Blanca: _(Weakly.)_ Where are the airsick bags?

            Lobo: …What airsick bags?

            Blanca: Don't they have airsick bags?

            Lobo: That's on planes, you idiot. This is a train. People don't get airsick on trains.

            Blanca: …I do.

            Lobo: OH, SWEET MONKEY JESUS! DON'T BARF ON ME!

            _(Upon hearing Lobo's outburst, the other animals on board panic, shouting at Blanca not to throw up, but, if she must throw up, to kindly do so out the window.)_

            Blanca: _(Climbs over Lobo, sticks her head out the window, and proceeds to toss her cookies. Many noises of disgust are made by the other animals.)_

            _(Meanwhile, a blue gorilla is walking by the railroad tracks, with a hobo sack slung over his shoulder. He is singing to himself a jolly tune.)_

            Gorilla: Oooooh,

            I like chick-en,

            I like liv-er,   

            Please de-liv-er…

            Meow Mix!

            _(No longer singing.) _Yes, sir, Peewee my boy, from now on, you is living the good life. No more roaming idly from town to town, or yelling at pesky human neighbors to do my chores for me! It's gonna be aces from now on! I can smell it in the wind!

            _(The train rolls by. For a split second, Blanca's head is shown, and a mighty shower of up-chucky rains down upon to unfortunate Peewee.)_

            Peewee: _(Standing completely still, covered in puke. He blinks.) _ …Why?

            _(Meanwhile, back on the train.)_

            Blanca: . . . Now I'm hungry again. Where are them fried clams? _(Is hit with a pickaxe over the head, resulting in a very bad boo-boo.)_ Ow! Who did that? _(She gets up from her set and peers behind it, spying a very grouchy-looking mole with a construction helmet and a pickaxe.)_ Why you do that?

            Mole: Because I don't like you.

            Blanca: Okay! Hey, what's your name?

            Mole: None of your beeswax.

            Blanca: Hey, you're Mr. Resetti, aren't you? I've heard about you and stuff! You yell at random people and then whack them with your pickaxe!

            Mole: _(Sarcastically.)_ I'm glad I have such a shining reputation.

            Blanca: Hey, do you like pie? I like pie!

            Lobo: Perhaps you should leave Mr. Resetti alone. We do want to make it to Camp Crystal Lake in one piece, after all.

            Mr. Resetti: You're going to Camp Crystal Lake too? Just great. Another thorn in my side.

            Blanca: Yay! It will be so much fun! We shall eat and laugh and be merry and whatnot!

            Mr. Resetti: _(Grumbles to himself.)_

            _(Suddenly, a raccoon pops up from behind Lobo.)_

            Raccoon: You're going to Camp Crystal Lake, too?

            Lobo: … Yeah. So?

            Raccoon: _(Shouts back to the other passengers, who include a purple pelican, a walrus, a red octopus, a green elephant, and two porcupines.)_ Hey! Guys! These animals are going to Camp Crystal Lake too! 

            Other Animals: _(In unison.)_ Yay!

            Raccoon: Allow me to introduce myself. I am Tom Nook, owner of the prestigious Nookington's chain of department stores!

            Pelican: I'm Petunia. And I hate everything except bad daytime television.

            Walrus: I'm Wendell. I like fish. _(Sings.)_ I am the walrus…

            Octopus: I am Octavian. I can spray ink.

            Elephant: I'm Opal. I like to say "snoot" a lot, because I am snooty.

            First Porcupine: I'm Sable…

            Second Porcupine: I'm Mable…

            Sable: And we're the Able Sisters!

            Blanca: Oooh, hello!

            Petunia: Don't come near me, Ms. Walking Vomitorium.

            Blanca: Okay! 

            Tom Nook: Now, now, let's not fight, as fighting is bad. Let's sing a song!

            Opal: Yes! A song!

            Octavian: Songs are good.

            Lobo: What kind of song?

            Tom Nook: This kind! One, two, three, uh!

            _(Suddenly all the animals are singing in unison, except Mr. Resetti. Some are playing guitars, one is playing drums, another is on a keyboard, some are waving their hands, and Tom Nook is at the microphone. They are all dressed in green.)_

            Animals: My baby don't mess around 

Because she loves me so 

And this I know fo' sho'!

But does she really want to?

But can't stand to see me

Walk out the door!

Don't try and fight the feeling

'Cause the thought alone

Is killing me right now!

Thank God for Mom and Dad

For sticking two together

Because we don't know how!

Heeeey ya! Heeeey ya!

Heeeey ya! Heeeey ya!

Mr. Resetti: … This is gonna be a long trip.

_(We go back to Totokeke, plucking at his guitar and whistling.)_

Totokeke: _(Sings.)_

And so they are off,

Singin' to Outkast.

But how long will

This happiness last? _(Stops singing.)_ Stay tuned for Part Three!


	3. Part Three: Monty Python Reference!

Suffer the Little Animals

Part Three

            _(We see Totokeke at the train station, doing what he does best. The monkey conductors pay him no mind.)_

            Totokeke:  _(Singing.)_

            They've made it to camp,

            After a long, strange trip.

            Dancin' and singin'

            And swayin' their hips.

            _(The animals all disembark from the train, and then walk a short distance to the entrance to Camp Crystal Lake. The entrance is adorned with a large, wooden sign that looms over the path. It reads "Camp Crystal Lake." The animals stop in front of it and look up in awe.)_

            Tom Nook: Camp Crystal Lake!

            Blanca: Camp Crystal lake!

            Octavian: Camp Crystal Lake!

            Mr. Resetti: It's only a model.

            Tom Nook: _(Shushes Mr. Resetti, then turns to the other animals.)_ Animals, I bid you welcome to your new camp. Let us ride to… CAMP CRYSTAL LAKE!

            _(Music starts playing, and we see the counselor animals dancing around in the dining hall. They are singing to the tune of Monty Python's "Knights of the Round Table" song.)_

            Counselors: _(Dancing on tables and singing.)_

            We're the Counselors at your camp!

            We hope you don't mind if it's damp!

            We make arts and crafts,

            And tasty snacks,

            And sing songs by John Mellencamp!

            We dine while at Crystal Lake,

            We eat cake and cornflakes and Shake'n'Bake!

            _(The animals dance some more, doing the can-can on tables, kicking away plates of food, while random ducks and chickens run around in a panic. Truly, an awful sight.)_

            Counselors: _(Sing again.)_

            We're the Counselors at your camp!

            We like… Tiffany… lamps!

            But many times,

            We make wind chimes

            And stick our tongues in bass amps!

            If you fall sick at Crystal Lake,

            We will treat you for your stomach aaaaaaache!

            _(One counselor pulls at a tapestry, while holding out the last word, but is then crushed by a rock that falls from the ceiling.)_

            _(More dancing ensues. We then get a brief glimpse at a man wearing a hockey mask at the bottom of the lake, clapping along to the music. We then go back to the counselors, only to see that the table some of them were dancing on has collapsed. They start tap dancing on it anyway. We then see a dog bopping several animals on the heads as if they were drums, and then knocks a passing pig unconscious. Someone steps on a frog, and it croaks loudly.)_

            Counselors: _(Singing again, waving their arms around.)_

            You may be a waif or tramp,

            But here you're always the champ!

            Sometimes we're high,

            And eat peach pie,

            And beat your Gram and Gramps!

            It's a busy life at Crystal Lake- _(The animals stop singing abruptly.)_

            _(One lone rabbit steps up, standing up straight.)_

            Rabbit: All of my teeth are faaaaake.

            _(The animals start dancing again, plates and silverware fly around like deadly missiles, and everything is all higgledy-piggledy. The music stops, and they all strike a pose. We then go back to Blanca, Nook and company, standing in confusion at the Camps entrance.)_

            Tom Nook: … On second thought, let's not go to Camp Crystal Lake. 'Tis a silly place.

            _(The other animals murmur in agreement. They turn around to go back on the train, only to watch it roll down the tracks. Nook panics, and runs up to one of the monkey conductors.)_

            Tom Nook: Make it come back! Make the train come back!

            Conductor: Sorry, sir, the next train doesn't come until tomorrow. You'll have to wait until then.

            Tom Nook: _(Shaking his tiny paws at the Conductor with a mighty wrath.)_ Curse you, conductor monkey! CURSE YOOOOOUUU!

            Conductor: Lo, I am cursed.

            Tom Nook: _(Sighs.)_ Oh, well. This story is going downhill as it is all ready. 

            Blanca: Oh, happy day!

            Octavian: Well, I suppose we're going to have to make the best of this. We're going to have to stay here until tomorrow.

            Lobo: I was afraid of that. Their songs and dances are even scarier than Blanca.

            Blanca: Yay!

            Sable: Um… wait a second…

            Lobo: What is it, Sable?

            Sable: Isn't it… uh… Friday the 13th?

            Opal: Willickers! She's right! And I bet there's a bad moon out on this night. Perhaps we shouldn't stay here.

            Petunia: Bah! Bad luck! That's ridiculous! It's just a silly superstition meant to get you all scared. The only bad luck around here would be if they didn't have a TV somewhere around here. I'm missin' my soaps.

            Mable: Petunia's right. We have nothing to worry about. What's the worst that could happen?

            Sable: We could die in out sleeping bags as we are beaten to death against a tree.

            Mable: Shush! Don't say that.

            Sable: 'S true, though.

            Wendell: I am so very hungry. Must… get… food… _(Waddles towards the camp, mumbling about fish and losing weight.)_

            Mr. Resetti: I'm gonna go exploring around this dump. _(Retreats underground to do many a mole-y thing.)_

            Lobo: Hmmm… Friday the 13th…

            Octavian: What? Don't tell me you believe that superstitious mumbo-jumbo.

            Lobo: It's not that… it's just… there's disaster upon the wind… I can smell it.

            Blanca: Ooh! What's it smell like?

            Lobo: … What?

            Blanca: Does it smell like strawberries? Dirt? Glue? Pancakes? Teen Spirit?

            Lobo: You know, you have no sense of dramatic tension.

            Blanca: Buttercups? Rocks? Iguanas? Bubble gum? Donald Trump?

            Lobo: Quit while you're ahead, Blanca.

            Blanca: Wait! I have to know what disaster smells like!

            _(The other animals leave Blanca, heading into the camp, while Blanca shouts out the names of more seemingly random nouns.)_

            Blanca: It is old ladies? Fish? The Internet? Ping-pong balls? Waffles? Guys! I hafta know! Come back! Pleeeeeease! _(Runs after the other animals, then trips over a rock. The Gary Coleman face is wiped away in the dirt. She then gets back up and continues running.)_

            _(We then look back at one of the poles holding up the Camp Crystal Lake sign. Totokeke is leaning against the pole, picking at the strings on his guitar idly.)_

            Totokeke: _(Whistles, then sings in a foreboding voice.)_

            Ten little animals stuck at

            Crystal Lake on the 13th.

            One by one they will be gone

            Because of an undead fiend. _(Stops playing and says in a spooky voice.)_ Look out for Part Four of… SUFFER THE LITTLE ANIMALS! _(The sky darkens and lightening crashes dramatically.)_


	4. Part Four: Did Somebody Say McAngus?

Suffer the Little Animals

Part Four

Author's (Brief) Notes:

            It seems so far that the only two people who have reviewed this story are Jason fans who know me through my Nightmare on Elm Street fictions, and have never even played Animal Crossing. So sad for them. They had two questions for me. The first being, "Are all these guys original characters, or what?" Well, no. I don't own any of the animals, (yet, I am working on trying to get Nintendo to surrender their rights of the game to me, or I will hold Pikachu hostage at gunpoint) and I certainly don't own Jason. I do, however, own some of the animals' personalities, to a certain degree, such as Blanca's and Lobo's. I do own McAngus the Scottish Prophet of doom, but I haven't written him into the story yet. The second question was what kind of animal Totokeke was, and was it a boy or a girl. Totokeke is a white dog with really thick eyebrows, and he is a boy. You meet him in the beginning of the game, when you're creating your very first character. He is also known as K.K. Slider, but I like Totokeke better. 

            I hope I made your day a little less confusing.

                                                            *          *          *

            _(We see most of the animals frolicking by the lake, save Mr. Resetti and Wendell. We also see Totokeke, not playing his guitar but the bagpipes. It's all very strange.)_

            Totokeke: _(Singing in a Scottish accent.)_

            The wee lil' beasties

            Arrre playing by the loch,

            But when McAngus comes,

            They'rrrre in ferrr a shock!

            _(The afore mentioned wee little beasties are jumping off the dock, doing cannonballs and can-openers. Blanca finally runs up to them, faceless again.)_

            Blanca: Hey! There you guys are! Why'd you leave me?

            _(All the animals stare at her in terror.)_

            Nook: It's… a… MONSTER!

            Blanca: _(Looking around frantically.)_ Monster! Where?Where is it?

            Octavian: Watch out! It will suck off your tentacles!

            Opal: _(Panicked.)_ I don't have any tentacles!

            Octavian: _(Darkly.)_ Then it already has!

            _(All of the animals panic, save for Lobo, who is floating in an inner tube a few feet off, casually regarding the events unfolding before him.)_

            Lobo: Weirdos. 

            (All the animals, save Lobo, jump out of the water and start to furiously beat the bejeezus out of poor Blanca. This makes the poor, faceless kitty cry.)

            Blanca: _(In a Lucille Ball voice.)_ Ricky, waaaaaaah!

            Lobo: _(Shouts over to the others.)_ You dumb animals! That's Blanca, not some tentacle-sucking monster! Sheesh!

            Petunia: _(Hands on hips.)_ How do you know?

            Lobo: Knowing Blanca as I do, nothing about her really comes as a surprise.

            Petunia: You just met her on the train!

            Lobo: Believe me, that's long enough. 

            _(The animals stop beating Blanca. She gets up, crying and sniffling.)_

            Blanca: Aw, goshy-goo, my face must've come off again. I didn't even get a chance to look at the one Katrina drew me.

            Mysterious, Scottish voice: Aye, Lassie, it's bad luck, Ah tell ye. It bein' Frrriday th' Thirrrrteenth, bad things arrrre bound t' 'appen. 

            _(Everyone turns to see a little Scottish Terrier waddle over, wearing a plaid kilt, sash, and hat. He's smoking a corncob pipe, and discordant bagpipe music plays as he approaches them.)_

            Mable: Who are you?

            Scottish Terrier: Ah'm McAngus, th' Scottish Prrrrrophet of yer DOOM! 

            Blanca: Hee hee, he has a funny accent.

            McAngus: Ah, put yerrrr face on, ya saucy lass!

            Blanca: Can't. Someone has to draw one.

            McAngus: Er, all rrright, but Ah can't draw too well.

            Blanca: Whatever, just draw me a face. 

            McAngus: Yerrr funeral. _(Takes out a black magic marker and draws an ear of corn on her face.)_ Voila! 

            Opal: Um, like, why did you draw an ear of corn on her face?

            McAngus: Good luck! This nutty lass is gonna need as much of it as she can get!

            Lobo: Actually, I think it's something of an improvement.

            Blanca: I like corn. And I like yer dressie, mister Scotsman.

            McAngus: IT'S A KILT!

            Blanca: It's a pretty dress.

            McAngus: KILT!

            Lobo: _(Paddling up to the dock with his front paws, while still lounging in the inner tube.)_ I thought you said you were a prophet of doom.

            McAngus: Aye, but Ah am. I have foreseen a fate so 'orrible ferrr th' lot o' ye, that only one o' yer will make it out alive!

            Sable: Will I beaten to death against a tree in my sleeping bag?

            McAngus: Ah'll bet ye twenty bucks ya do, lassie.

            Sable: Oh, the raging horror!

            Nook: Now, look, Mr. Prophet-of-Doom, you're scaring the girls! 

            McAngus: They aughta be scared, laddie. They'rrrre all gonna die 'orrible deaths at the hand of th' banshee Jason Voorrrhees. 

            Blanca: Oh! I heard another prophet of doom talk about that guy Jason Vacuum or whatever. She talked like this: _(Her head begins to spins around, and white foams spills from where her mouth should be.)_ You're all going to die and stuff.

            Lobo: I bet you're a real hit at parties, Blanca.

            Blanca: Yeah. Wanna see my ping-pong ball trick?

            Lobo: You know what? Let's play the quiet game. You go first.

            Blanca: _(Falls silent.)_

            McAngus: Don't say Ah dinn't warn yoo, ye mad beasties. _(Toddles off as complementary earsplitting bagpipe music plays.)_

            Opal: … What a strange person.

            _(Meanwhile, we see Mr. Resetti popping up from the ground and managing to burst through a wooden floor. He looks around, twitching his nose irritably.)_

            Mr. Resetti: Where the hell am I now? _(Pops up out of the ground, looking around what appears to be a bedroom in a shack. The room looks as if the house has been abandoned for ages. Mr. Resetti toddles around, looking through the room, tossing around objects he finds; knives, a teddy bear, pillows, etc. He comes across a rotting chest in the corner of the room. He opens it, finding only clothes inside. Overwhelmed by curiousity, he tries on a red turtleneck sweater, slipping it over his usual work shirt and overalls. He then finds a gray beehive wig and slips it on over his miner's helmet. The overall result looks rather silly.)_

            _(Unbeknownst to Mr. Resetti, the door to the little room has opened, and a silent, tall, hulking, dripping-wet figure wearing a hockey mask looms over him. Mr. Resetti turns around, looking over at the man standing over him. It is then that his pupils dilate in pure, unadulterated fear.)_

            Mr. Resetti: … Mommy.

            _(The scene quickly switches to Totokeke sitting on a cabin's porch, playing the bagpipes again.)_

            Totokeke: _(Sings once again in a Scottish accent.)_

            Th' Prrrophecy 'as been made,

            And all the beasties arrre doomed.

            Which one will survive,

            While all th' rrrrest arrre scrrrewed? _(Stops singing.)_ Keep an eye out fer Part Five, ya wee barrons!

            __


	5. Part Five: I'm a Tree Huggin' Hippie!

Suffer the Little Animals

Part Five

_(We open on Totokeke playing the blues on a harmonica in front of a cabin. He is tapping his paw to the tune of the song. He puts down the harmonica.)_

Totokeke: _(Sings in a blues voice.)_

Oh, dem animals don't know

What gonna happen tonight.

'Cause it's Jason's birthday,

And he is feelin' all right.

_(We now go into the cabin, where Wendell is painting the walls. He is humming a jingle from a laundry detergent commercial as he paints the walls with giant sunflowers. Suddenly, he hears the door creak open.)_

Wendell: _(Turns around.) _W-who's there?

_(No one answers. Wendell shrugs, and then returns to his work, singing loudly.)_

Wendell: _(Sings.)_

Momma's keeps the house

Clean like the springtime!

Momma's got the magic

With Clorox Bleach!

_(Unfortunately for Wendell, his singing drowns out the loud footsteps approaching from behind him. A large, hulking figure looms over the little blue walrus, simply staring down at him.)_

Wendell: _(Still singing.)_

Fresh goes better

With Mentos fresh

And full of liiiiiife!

Jason: _(We all know who he is, so I might as well come out with it. He pokes Wendell.)_

Wendell: _(Turns around and looks up.)_ Uh... hello. Are you delivering pizza?

Jason: ...

Wendell: Cheese, maybe?

Jason: ...

Wendell: Is it government cheese?

Jason: ...

Wendell: ... I like government cheese. Do you have government fish?

Jason: _(Raises his machete and rams it through Wendell's fat tummy. Wendell's eyes are as wide as golf balls as red, sticky blood oozes all over the happy sunflower picture he has painted on the walls. Jason then turns and leaves,)_

_* * *_

_(We now go back to the other animals, who are wandering around camp. Perhaps they are hiking. Perhaps they are looking for treasure. We do not know. But they are wandering around.)_

Nook: Does anybody know where we are?

Blanca: ...

Petunia: Why is she so quiet?

Lobo: She's playing the quiet game, remember?

Petunia: I kinda wish she'd play that all the time. Do us all a favor.

Opal: Maybe we should split up. Then we could find camp easier.

Lobo: Oh, gee! That's a brilliant idea! Split up and get even more lost then we already are! Oh, I know! Let's all go find sticks and ram them down our own throats for fun! Whee!

Nook: Be quiet! As leader, I say we split up.

Lobo: And who exactly made you the leader?

Nook: Who owns a whole chain of department stores here, you or me, bitch?

Lobo: I hope I live long enough to regret this. And when I die, my ghost will come back to haunt you until you die, and then I'll drag your soul back down to hell with me.

Nook: Yes, yes, that's all very nice. Now, Let's split up. Petunia will come with me and go this way _(Points in a random direction)_ Opal, you go with Octavian and go that way _(Points in another random direction)_ Mable and Sable, you go that-a-way _(Points to another direction)_ and Lobo, since you two are so well acquainted, you and Blanca will go that way. _(Point up at a tree.)_

Lobo: ...You want us to go up a tree.

Nook: Cats can climb, can't they?

Lobo: WOLVES CAN'T CLIMB TREES!

Nook: Oh, you know what they say... _(Sings and twirls around.)_ No-thing is im-poss-i-ble, 'til you tryyy...

Lobo: Urge to chew on head... rising...

Blanca: _(Thinks to self: "I am sooo winning this quiet game.")_

Nook: All right, gang, let's split up!

Sable: Jinkies.

Lobo: Fine. C'mon, Blanca. _(Grabs Blanca by the hand and drags her to the tree as the other animals wander off.)_

Lobo: Okay, the quiet game is over. Now, help me climb this tree.

Blanca: Aaah, but how do I know you aren't just saying that so you can win the quiet game?

Lobo: ...If that was my plan, it worked, because you just lost.

Blanca: I... but... monkeys... ah, fiddlesticks!

Lobo: Now about the tree?

Blanca: _(Hugs the tree.)_

Lobo: What are you doing?

Blanca: I'm a tree-huggin' hippie.

Lobo: Cut that out!

Blanca: But I hug trees.

Lobo: Yeah, yeah, now help me climb the tree so we can appease the mighty yet grumpy Tom Nook. How do you climb a tree?

Blanca: Is this a pop quiz?

Lobo: No, just, how do you climb a tree?

Blanca: You're asking me?

Lobo: You don't know either?

Blanca: ... I know how to hug a tree.

Lobo: _(Smacks his forehead.)_

Blanca: Hee hee, do it again!

Lobo: This is just great! I'm stuck at the Camp from Hell, lost in the woods, with the stupidest cat that God had the idiocy or the malice to create!

Blanca: Boy, that must be frustrating.

Lobo: ARGH! _(Bangs his head against a tree in frustration.)_

Blanca: _(Does the same.)_ Ow. This kinda hurts.

Lobo:_ (Slumps against the tree.)_ Why do you do this to me, God? Huh? Why me?

Blanca: Don't be sad, God loves you.

Lobo: Then why did he make you?

Blanca: To spread happiness to all the children of the world!

Lobo: ... Kill me...

_(Totokeke is a few feet away, playing a harmonica.)_

Totokeke: _(Sings.)_

So, they's lost in the wood

Tryin' to get home,

But little do they know-

Lobo: Hey! Who the hell are you?

Totokeke: ...Who?

Lobo: You! Who are you and why are you always following us around and singing?

Blanca: Hi, Mr. Sing-y Dog Man!

Totokeke: Yikes! I better split! _(Runs away and shouts out:)_ Keep this site bookmarked for PART SIX! _(Gets into a helicopter and flies away.)_

Lobo: ... Bastard.

` Blanca: Okay, I love you, buh-bye!


	6. Part Six: Jason's Musical Talent

Suffer the Little Animals

Part Six

            _(We again see Totokeke, but he is hanging from a parachute in midair, sans guitar. A Canadian goose flies by and honks at him angrily.)_

            Totokeke: Ah, we're having some technical difficulties, so I can't quite sing the introduction. Let's check on Mable and Sable, shall we? _(Bats at the goose.)_ Go away! Shoo! Fly away home!

            _(We then cut to Mable and Sable, who approach what appears to be an abandoned campsite.)_

            Sable: I don't like this place. It gives me the heebie-jeebies.

            Mable: _(Ignoring her.)_ This really steams my broccoli! This careless animal left this campfire unattended! It's a good thing we came by here; otherwise these sleeping bags may have caught on fire.

            Sable: …Sleeping bags?

            Mable: Ah, well. I think it's getting…

            _(A nightfall backdrop suddenly appears over the sunny-sky background, landing with a loud thud.)_

            Mable: …Dark.

            _(Meanwhile, Lobo and Blanca are stuck in a tree, as it suddenly becomes night.)_

            Lobo: What the hell was that?

            Blanca: It's night, you silly guy.

            Lobo: …This place is getting weirder and weirder. _(Pauses.)_ Hey, how'd we get up in this tree, anyway?

            Blanca: Magic?

            Lobo: _(Sighs.)_

            _(We cut back to Mable and Sable. Mable is snuggling into a sleeping bag, while Sable is standing idly against a tree.)_

            Mable: What's the matter? You act like this is your last day alive.

            Sable: Yeah, well, I don't trust those sleeping bags. McAngus said I was gonna die in one of those things. I refuse to sleep in one.

            Mable: …Chicken.

            Sable: I'm not a chicken! Besides, where are the people who set up this camp anyway? They could be back any minute!

            _(Unbeknownst to Sable, on the other side of the tree she's against, a crocodile, a kangaroo, and a tiger are impaled with an American flag, which it shoved into the tree.)_

            Mable: Oh, they won't mind. Besides, we need sleep. Now get in your sleeping bag, you silly goose.

            Sable: But, I…

            Mable: _(One of her eyes becomes three times as large as the other. It develops a cats-eye pupil, a red iris, and little pink veins start to throb on it.)_

            Sable: Not the evil eye! Okay! You win!

            Mable: _(Makes a happy face.)_ Better.

            Sable: _(Crawls into her sleeping bag, shaking like a thing that shakes. As soon as she finally begins to relax, she hears heavy footsteps in the woods. She immediately begins to panic.)_ What was that?

            Mable: Probably just the campers coming back from… um… camping and such.

            Sable: It's doom on feet… DOOM ON FEET, I SAYS!

            Mable: Evil eye!

            Sable: _(Whimpers.)_

            _(We then see Jason emerge from the woods. He isn't currently holding a weapon that we know of, and he is staring at the two porcupines in sleeping bags.)_

            Mable: Well, howdy! Is this your campsite?

            Jason: …

            Sable: Doom on feet…

            Mable: _(To Sable.)_ Shush! _(To Jason.)_ You don't mind if we use these extra sleeping bags we got here, do ya?

            Jason: _(Grabs Sable's sleeping bag, holding the open end of it closed, as Sable's muffled screams come from it.)_

            Mable: Hey! That's not very nice! You put her back down!

            Jason: _(Furiously beats Mable with the sleeping bag with Sable inside, as both of the porcupines scream in terror. Mable has stopped moving, dead as a doornail. Jason pokes the sleeping bag with Sable inside, only to make her scream and squirm again.)_

            Sable: HELP ME! OH, SWEET MISERABLE JESUS, HELP ME!

            Jason: _(Starts to whack the sleeping bag up against a tree, all while Sable still continues to scream. He then tries beating her against a piano. Why there is a piano in the middle of the woods and why nobody ever noticed it before, I can't rightly say. All I can say is that it makes quite a ruckus, with the screaming and the hitting of the piano keys. If you listen hard enough, it kind of sounds like the chorus to Madonna's "Like a Virgin." But the girl still ain't dead yet. So, Jason looks around feverishly for something else to beat her against. He spots Donald Trump.)_

            Donald Trump: Hi, I'm Donald Trump, and-OOF! _(Is whacked by the sleeping bag. This sends Donald flying into the stratosphere, where he sort of winks out, like a star. Like Team Rocket did when they were "blasting off." If you ever watched "Pokémon" you would know what I'm talking about.)_

            Sable: _(Gasping and crying.)_ Help me! Please… help… me!

            Jason: _(Is about to just give up when he looks at the fire. He throws the sleeping bag onto the fire, and it bursts into flames as though it were soaked in gasoline. Sable is still screaming. Jason walks away, letting the hapless porcupine burn like a disco inferno. It just makes you want to sing.)_

            _(Meanwhile, Lobo can hear the screams with his super-sensitive wolf-y hearing.)_

            Lobo: You hear those screams?

            Blanca: You mean these screams? _(Screams at the top of her lungs.)_ AI YI-YI-YI-YI-YI-YI-YI-YI-YI-YIIIIIIIIII!

            Lobo: …Thank, you, Xena.

            Blanca: You're welcome. But my name's not Xena.

            Lobo: Forget it! There's somebody in trouble out there, and we should probably check it out. And we gotta stay together. Safety in numbers and whatnot.

            Blanca: You mean like a buddy system?

            Lobo: Exactly.

            Blanca: Last time I went in a buddy system, I made this possum my buddy, but then he tried to feed me to his magical were-wombat, and I lost my mind. I miss my mind.

            Lobo: …That explains a lot.

            Blanca: Not really. He still has my mind.

            Lobo: Riiiiight, sure. Um, how do we get down from this tree?

            Blanca: I go down like this. _(Extends arms outwards and lets herself fall off the branch, plummeting down, and hitting every single branch on the way down. She finally gets stuck on a branch, where an enraged woodpecker pecks at her head.)_ Hey! Ow! Sheeshy-poo! You're mean, Woody!

            Lobo: …_(Decides that it's best to just climbs down and try his best not to fall.)_

            _(We see Totokeke again, still without a guitar, and caught in a tree. His parachute appears to be tangles in the branches of the tree. Meanwhile, the same goose from before is honking at him with the rage of a thousand gooses.)_

            Totokeke: Ah, shoot, it's over already? Things have gone a bit, erm, afowl here, so I don't have a song for you. Be sure to read part seven of Suffer the Little Animals! _(To the goose.)_ Curse you, goose! Curse you!

            


	7. Part Seven: The Elizabethan Chapter

Suffer the Little Animals

Part Seven (or, the Elizabethan chapter)

Author's Super Ultra Quick Note:

            All right, you little monkeys, listen up. For those of you who have never read anything by Shakespeare or any other "really, really old and dead" writers, you may be lost as far as the dialogue goes. I do this to torture you all. And I like Shakespeare. So there. Has anybody ever read a play called A Midsummer Night's Dream? It is a cool play. S'got fairies. Hee hee.

                                                            *          *          *

            _(We see Totokeke now, playing a lute instead of his usual guitar. This confuses us. He's also dressed like something out of the Renaissance era.)_

            Totokeke: _(Sings.)_

            My heart doth weep

            For the sorrowful beasts,

            At the mercy of hither villain

            That hails from the east.

            _(We now cut to Octavian and Opal waddling through the woods. I'm not exactly sure how an octopus would waddle, being that it has tentacles instead of feet. Then again, I'm not sure how an octopus would be able to stay alive on land for very long. Then again, I'm not sure about a great many number of things. ARGHY BLARGHY! MY MIND!)_

            Octavian: I feel that we should travel not in yonder woods on this night, my dear lady. Methinks we would be safer in yon cabins, away from the ever-present danger of the devilish rogue who roams the sylvan settings long after the sun has laid its head to rest among the heavens.

            Opal: Aye, for even the ever-snooty Opal feels the cold breath of fear upon the back of her neck, calling out for her to turn and face its hideous countenance only to find that it is Death itself, in all its ungodliness.

            Octavian: A terrible thought!

            Opal: Indeed, I have dedicated great thought to it, and it never ceases to arouse old nightmares and visions I had as but a calf. Perhaps it would be best if we dismiss such depraved fantasies. The night is young, let us find the counselors.

            _(There is a snapping of twigs. Someone starts "singing" the Friday the 13th theme, which is basically just saying "choo-choo-choo, ha-ha-ha, chi-chi-chi" in a spooky whisper.)_

            Octavian: Hark! What are these reverberations that befall upon mine ears?

            Opal: I hear no such noises. Thou art but a lowly octopus; thou dost not possess ears in any way, shape or form.

            Octavian: Have I not?

            Opal: Foolish mollusk, thou have not.

            Octavian: Ah, but if an octopus were not to possess a pair of ears, then why is it that an octopus can hear a stuttering oaf such as thou, and still be able to comprehend such nonsense that spills out the orifice labeled as thy mouth.

            Opal: I object to such insults, sir!

            Octavian: … Quoth the beast who art no smarter than a dumb moose.

            Opal: Now, see hear, good sir-! _(Is interrupted by a Jason, who is standing over the two little animals, wielding a machete.)_

            Jason: …

            Opal: Who goes there, oh masked stranger?

            Jason: _(Says nothing, but for some strange reason, subtitles appear at the bottom of the screen, as if he were speaking in another language, which he isn't.)_ (Lo, a more capricious zephyr has more design than I, for I have resolv'd to murder thou forthwith.)

            Opal: Surely you jest with us, kind sir.

            Jason: (Lo, I do not.)

            Octavian: If I may quickly interject, but how dost thou understand yonder masked wastrel?

            Opal: Why, the subtitles at the bottom of the screen, foolish knave.

            Octavian: Ah, but of course.

            Jason: (Do not detain me from slaughtering thou like lambs for a feast, for I am resolute to see what the color of thy blood is.)

            Opal: My blood, good sir?

            Jason: (Aye, your blood.)

            Octavian: Opal, I fear we must quit this place forthwith, before thy masquerading scoundrel decides to give us the taste of his cold, steel blade.

            Jason: (Ah, but my mind has already been made. I shall tickle thy ribs with the blade of my machete; I am your angel of death, sent to snuff the fickle candle that is your mortality. But do not struggle, for the more difficult thou dost maketh it for me, the longer and more painful thy death shalt be. So, greet thy doom with open arms, and it shalt be easier for all of us.)

            Opal: But why dost thou wish to kill us?

            Jason: (I am not at liberty to say, for I am but a simple monster, who knows nothing but seething abhorrence for all who come to hither cursed campgrounds. I shalt rest not, until the death of my mother hast been avenged with the blood of every fool who sets foot upon these grounds.)

            Octavian: Opal, let us not stay at this place! We must flee, so that we may have a chance to live to see the light of another sunrise!

            Jason: (I shalt not give thee that pleasure. Die, damned dog!) _(Swings the machete in one clean sweep, lopping off Octavian's head. Just before the little octopus dies, he manages to squirt a considerable amount of ink, so that Jason has now been splattered with both blood and ink.)_

            Opal: Oh, cursed monster! Oh, lowly beast! Poor Octavian was not even a dog, but an octopus!

            Jason: (I know this.)

            Opal: Then why didst thou call him a damned dog?

            Jason: (None of thy beeswax.)

            Opal: I suppose that this be the part where I run hither and scream like a banshee as thou chases me through yonder woods.

            Jason: (I shalt give thee a head start.)

            Opal: I thank thee. _(Runs hither and screams like a banshee as Jason chases her through yonder woods… argh, this way of speaking is hard to get out of. Opal is running still when she trips over a tree root. She picks herself up off of the ground and looks around the woods, terrified. There seems to be no sign of Jason, and yet the theme music is still playing. You know, the "choo-choo-choo, ha-ha-ha, chi-chi-chi" noises. You ever try doing that when you're alone with someone in a dark room on a dark and stormy night? S'fun. Wheeeeee!)_

            Opal: Who goest there?

            _(No answer. The theme music is still playing. Opal starts backing up, looking at where Jason should be coming from. She then backs into something. She turns around and looks up to see Jason's silhouetted form. She screams, and Jason brings down his machete and proceeds to chop Opal in half vertically. There's blood and elephant guts everywhere. Truly, it's just awful.)_

            _(We then cut to Lobo and Blanca, who are still wandering through the woods. Lobo's ears perk up, as Opal's final scream is more than audible.)_

            Lobo: What was that?

            Blanca: Faith, I know not, for no sound has passed into mine ears save the chirping of crickets, snapping of twigs 'neath our paws, and the voices in my head speaking in a Spanish tongue.

            Lobo: …Why are you talking like that?

            Blanca: How have I wronged thee with my speech?

            Lobo: Like that! You're talking like something out of Hamlet! What is wrong with you? What is wrong with this place?

            Blanca: I do not understand what thou means by that, good sir. I only know of my love for monkeys and shining metallic objects.

            Lobo: You know what? Just forget I said anything. This place is a regular funny farm. _(Grumbles to himself beneath his breath.)_

            Blanca: Dost thou thinkest me mad?

            Lobo: Put a sock in it!

            _(Behind a tree, well out of the sight of Blanca and Lobo, Totokeke is playing the lute again, occasionally blowing the feather from his hat that falls in front of his little doggie face.)_

            Totokeke: _(Sings.)_

            Our hapless heroes are still lost

            In yonder never-ending wood, 

            And yet they persist onward,

            In the name of all that is good. _(Stops singing.)_ This epic of folly and carnage shalt be continued in Part Eight of Suffer the Little Animals! _(Exeunt.)_


	8. Part Eight: Logic Reigns Supreme

Suffer the Little Animals

Part Eight

Author's Rant:

            Apparently, one person thought the last part "sucked big, big ass," simply because I did it in Ye Olde Tongue. Well you know what? You have just proved that my evil, evil plan had worked! Ha! Insolent fool! That chapter was made to torture you! And you, being the simpleton that you are, fell for it! Bwa ha ha! I was giggling as I wrote it, dreaming of the flames that people would write, unaware that those flames would only make me laugh in malicious, spiteful glee! You didn't think I was serious when I said I did it to cause you mental discomfort, but **YOU'RE WRONG**! Oh, so wrong! And if you thought THAT was bad, heck, I could've written in an iambic pentameter! Now, I must expose you to more pain and suffering, until your mom has become stupid, and if she already _is_ stupid, then you probably made her that way! Ha!

            Okay, I should probably stop now.

                                                            *            *            *

            _(We see Totokeke again, this time without the fancy-pants clothes that he had in the previous chapter. I kinda liked them fancy-pants clothes. But it's not like my opinion matters. I am, after all, just the author, and nobody really loves me. No, everybody loves Blanca or Lobo or Jason. This makes me sad. I will go shoot myself now.)_

            Totokeke: Aw, don't shoot yourself, man. Suicide's for squares. We really do love you, Tuesday.

            _(*Sniff* Do you mean it?)_

            Totokeke: If I'm lyin', I'm dyin'. 

            _(Don't say that, you'll jinx yourself.)_

            Totokeke: Man, I'm the narrator, they can't kill me!

            _(Jason then appears behind Totokeke, holding his machete.)_

            Totokeke: _(Hands Jason a bag of 100 bells.)_ Here, man, buy yourself a soda or somethin'. 

            Jason: ^_^ _(Walks away, all happy and whatnot. I think that's the first time I ever made a smiley in this story. Anyways, moving on.)_

            Totokeke: _(Clears his throat and plays the guitar, singing.)_

            The pickings gettin' slim,

            Only four animals left.

            If you borrow things forever,

            Then it's not really theft. _(Stops singing.)_ Man, those last two lines weren't all that good, were they?

            _(Moving on, we see Tom Nook and Petunia walking through the woods. A twig snaps. They both jump in surprise.)_

            Petunia: What was that?

            Nook: Ah, I'm sure it's just a bug.

            Petunia: A bug? Must be a pretty big bug then.

            Nook: No, no, no, my dear, bugs don't get big enough to step on twigs and break them. It is simply a bug eating a twig. 

            Petunia: …Bugs don't eat twigs.

            Nook: Have you ever asked one?

            Petunia: I can't say that I have.

            Nook: See, there you go.

            Petunia: Wait. Don't tell me you talk to bugs.

            Nook: _(Crosses his arms over his chest.)_ And what if I do?

            Petunia: That's just stupid.

            Nook: AAaahh, you are assuming that I talk to bugs just because I do not give you a definite answer. But you have no proof either way.

            Petunia: Talking to you is proof enough.

            Nook: Your witty insults are not enough to defer me. Now, let us think this out logically, shall we? Let us assume that there is only one truth to this question.

            Petunia: Look, we really need to find our way to a cabin or something. . .

            Nook: Please, do not interrupt. If, hypothetically, there is one truth, then it must be either "Yes, I talk to bugs," or, "No, I do not talk to bugs." Am I right?

            Petunia: Oh, I don't have time for this-

            Nook: Am I right?

            Petunia: Yeah, sure, whatever, now let's go!

            _(Another twig snaps. Nook doesn't seem to notice.)_

            Nook: And, if the answer were "Yes, I talk to bugs," a new question would pop up, that being, "Do the said bugs talk back?" 

            Petunia: There is something out in the woods, you stupid- _(She cuts herself off, having spotted a cabin a few yards away.)_ A CABIN!

            Nook: Will you please stop trying to interrupt? I'm trying to make a point here.

            Petunia: BUT THERE'S A CABIN OVER THERE! WE'RE SAVED! _(Runs over to the cabin as quickly as she can.)_

            Nook: Well, that's an entirely different thing all together. Very well. _(Follows Petunia to the afore-mentioned cabin.)_

            _(The cabin that they enter appears to be the dining hall. Not a single animal is inside. Petunia and Nook waddle around, looking for signs of life.)_

            Petunia: It looks like we're too late for dinner.

            Nook: Yes… it appears that we have the place completely to ourselves.

            Petunia: …What exactly do you mean by that?

            Nook: I mean, we're alone.

            Petunia: You're not having certain… you know… _ideas_, are you?

            Nook: Well, I'm still rather focused on the "talking to bugs" question.

            Petunia: Just stop right there. Forget I even said anything.

            Nook: _(Finally gets it.)_ Why, you disgusting little slut!

            Petunia: Me? You're the raging pervert!

            Nook: No, you were the one thinking such disgusting thoughts. Besides, you are a bird and I am a mammal, and that's just wrong in every way possible.

            Petunia: Well, maybe you're sick that way, Mr. Pervert-y Raccoon man! _(Sticks out her tongue at him.)_

            Nook: I take offense to that! Now, see here-! _(Is but off when an arrow, no doubt from the archery range, flies in through the window and impales Petunia through the head, pinning her against the wall on the other side of the room.)_ …Oh dear.

            _(Jason pops into view through the window, now holding a bow and arrow. We can only assume Jason has taken some classes in archery or something.)_

            Nook: Now, that wasn't very nice, you know. You aren't too big for a time-out!

            Jason: _(Tilts his head in confusion.)_

            Nook: Ah, the strong silent type, eh? Then I suppose you wouldn't mind listening to the rest of my speech on the truth about my talking to bugs. _(Clears throat.)_ Now, from the point in which we ask "Do the bugs talk back?" If yes, then that proves that yes, I have the ability to communicate with insects. If no, then that just means that I am, perhaps, severely mentally ill, and I should be locked up. Am I right?

            Jason. _(Shrugs.)_

            Nook: You see, sir, you have just proved your own stupidity by saying that you do not understand reasonable logic. Now, I must talk to you of how sheep's bladders may be employed to prevent earthquakes.

            Jason: _(Throws the bow and arrow aside, and tries to climb in through the window after Nook. Sadly, Jason does not fit. He is stuck.)_

            Nook: And now you've done it again? No exactly the sharpest bulb in the crayon box, now are we?

            Jason: _(Even more confused than ever.)_

            Nook: Perhaps if you had the common sense to use the door, my good fellow, you wouldn't be stuck in this situation! Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho! 

            Jason: _(Manages to break through the window, tearing out a huge hunk of wall. He looms over Tom Nook dangerously.)_

            Nook: …Perhaps your sheer brute strength makes up for your lack of brains?

            Jason: _(Stabs Nook repeatedly with the machete, until his guts are nothing but chopped up little bits of raccoon-y meat. Mmmm, meaty!)_

            _(We cut to Blanca and Lobo, who are walking through the woods, and have finally come across a cabin.)_

            Lobo: Thank God!

            Blanca: No, thank Bob!

            Lobo: I'm so happy, I can ignore your idiocy just this once! Let's go, Blanca!

            Blanca: Aye-aye, sir!

            _(They run towards the cabin, struggling over logs and through underbrush, all while Blanca is singing the "Badger Badger Badger" song.)_

Blanca: Badger badger badger badger badger badger badger badger mushroom! Mushroom! Badger badger badger badger badger badger badger badger mushroom! Mushroom! Badger badger badger badger badger badger badger badger mushroom, mushroom! Badger badger badger badger badger badger badger badger _(Snake randomly slithers across the ground.)_ Snake! Snake! Oooh, it's a snake! It's a badger badger badger-

            Lobo: _(Whacks the snake with a stick, then whacks Blanca.)_ WILL YOU SHUT UP ALREADY?

            Blanca: Ouchies. I hurt.

            Snake: You and me both, sister!

            Lobo: Let's just go to the cabin without any further idiocy, capisce? 

            Blanca: Mushroom, heh.

            _(Lobo and Blanca finally make it to the cabin without further incident.)_

            Lobo: _(Busts down the door.)_ QUICK! YOU GOTTA HELP US-! _(Stops before he finishes the sentence, his eyes growing wide in terror.)_ Sweet Monkey Jesus…

            Blanca: _(Peeks in.)_ Eeeeewww, icky.

            _(The scene that is before them is one of pure and adulterated yucky. There are meaty bits of animals strewn up everywhere: There are bunnies nailed to walls and decapitated horse heads upon beds, pigs drained of all their blood, and half-eaten doggies. Several decapitated animal heads are nailed to the wall. No one has been spared.)_

            Lobo: _(Vomits in a corner. He is making icky vomit-y noises.)_

            Blanca: Hee hee, you're tossin' your cookies too!

            _(We then cut to Totokeke, who seems all happy despite the carnage we have just witnessed.)_

            Totokeke: _(Belts it out.)_

            Blanca and Lobo

            Are the last one's alive!

            Which one will make it?

            Which will survive? _(Stops singing.)_ Stay tuned for… PART NINE OF SUFFER THE LITTLE ANIMALS! DUN-DUN-DUUUUNNN!


	9. Part Nine: Mr Resetti's Revenge

Suffer the Little Animals

Part Nine

            _(Totokeke is just outside the cabin of doom that Lobo and Blanca have just entered. He's playing his guitar happily.)_

            Totokeke: _(Sings.)_

            There are bodies everywhere,

            It's a horrible sight,

            Run, Blanca and Lobo!

            Or you won't see sunlight!

            _(Almost as if on cue, Blanca and Lobo run screaming out of the cabin. While Lobo gives off howls of pure terror, Blanca seems to be shrieking as if she were on a roller coaster. They run to another cabin, only to see a dead Wendell slumped against a wall painted with sunflowers.)_

            Lobo: OH, MY GOD!

            Blanca: I am the walrus, goo-goo-pachoo!

            _(They run away again, Lobo even more terrified than before. They then come across a camp site, only to find three little animals impaled against a tree, a dead porcupine, Mable, in a sleeping bag, and another porcupine, most likely Sable, on the fire, nothing but charred, skeletal remains.)_

            Blanca: Well, sheeshy-poo, what happened here?

            Lobo: JUST KEEP RUNNING!

            _(They are running again, and have come across a beheaded octopus, Octavian, along with a horrible mess of ink and blood.)_

            Blanca: Anybody up for sushi?

            Lobo: ARGHY!

            _(Again, they run. Blanca trips over a branch and her corn-face is smeared off. They come across poor Opal, who seems to have been cut in half vertically. More shrieks from Lobo, and more giggles from Blanca.)_

            Lobo: _(Thinks: "What in God's name has she been smoking?")_

            _(More running. They come across another cabin, praying to whatever God they believe in that someone is alive in there. They find Petunia the pelican impaled through the head by an arrow, and hanging from the wall, and what is left of Tom Nook, chopped up into little pieces.)_

            Lobo: Who did this? Who in the name of all that is sacred and holy _did_ this?

            Mysterious Voice: Ah, they have found us, Jason… they have found my special, special boy…

            Blanca: Who be there?

            _(Jason steps out from a door, lumbering slowly towards the two terrified animals. He stops shortly in front of them. Behind him, a cartoonish underground tunnel forms, going in between his legs, and a mole in a turtleneck sweater and a bad, red wig pops up from underground.)_

            Lobo: … Mr. Resetti?

            Mr. Resetti: SILENCE! I am not Mr. Resetti! I am Mrs. Voorhees! You have been bad, bad little animals, and my boy Jason shall punish you! _(Waves his pickaxe threateningly at them. His wig threatens to fall off, and he adjusts it so that it fits snuggly over his miner's hat. Jason doesn't seem to notice.)_

            Blanca: Are you gonna spank me? I no likey being spanked.

            Lobo: I think he intends to do something far worse than spanking.

            Mr. Resetti: You're damn straight!

            Lobo: But… why?

            Mr. Resetti: I'll tell you why! I'm sick of people constantly resetting the game! And I'm tired of constantly having to yell at them until my face turns blue, while they laugh at me and the pain I endure! THEY LAUGH AT ME! Fools! Now that I've found my boy Jason, we'll teach them never to reset the game again! EVER! 

            Lobo: You're mad!

            Mr. Resetti: That's right! I **AM** MAD! DAMN MAD! 

            Blanca: Hee hee, "damn mad" spelled backwards is "damn mad."

            Lobo: _(To Blanca.)_ Be quiet! Bloody peasant!

            Blanca: "Bloody peasant" spelled backwards is "tnasaep ydoolb!" 

            Mr. Resetti: I SAID SILENCE!

            Blanca: I sorry. _(Feels her face.) _ Wait a second. I think my face came off again. _(Looks up at Jason.)_ Can you draw me a new face.

            Jason: … _(Reaches into his pocket and pulls out a dull red crayon. He draws a happy face onto Blanca's face. It looks as if a retarded monkey drew it.)_

            Blanca: Thank you so very much!

            Jason: _(Nods.)_

            Mr. Resetti: That's better, I guess. Now, where was I? Ah, yes! _(Goes back to his insane voice.) _But that's not all of it! No! Not by a long shot! I hate puppies and chocolate milkshakes! I hate daisies and feathery pillows! I hate piano music and Led Zeppelin! And you wanna know something else? I HATE OUTKAST!

            Blanca: _(Gasps in horror.)_

            Lobo: You seriously need some help, sir.

            Mr. Resetti: I don't need your help! I don't need anybody's help! Nobody's but Jason's! My boy, my boy, my special, loveable boy!

            Jason: _(Beaming.)_

            Lobo: Um… yeah, sure. "Loveable."

            Blanca: I always liked Michael Myers better.

            Mr. Resetti: THAT'S IT! NOW YOU DIE LIKE A LITTLE BITCH! JASON! STAB HER FOR MOMMY!

            Jason: _(Takes his machete and stabs Blanca through the stomach.)_

            Lobo: BLANCA! NOOOOO!

            Jason: _(Removes the blade and stabs back by his "mommy.")_

            Lobo: _(Rushes to Blanca's side, propping up her head with his paw.)_ Blanca! Please! Speak to me! Don't die, you stupid cat!

            Blanca: Easy-squeezey-lemon-peezey…

            Lobo: Blanca, if you die, I'm gonna kill you! _(Pauses.)_ Wait, that just sounded really stupid. 

            Blanca: _(Creepy voice.)_ Beware Macduff… beware the man not of a woman born… beware re-runs of the Jerry Springer show… All hail the king of late-night talk shows! Hey! You! Sea monkey! Get away from my wallet! Tell Auntie Em not to put down Ole' Yeller. Avast, ye scurvy dogs! I be the fiercest ninja of all the seven seas! Rose… bud… wise… er… _(Dies.)_

            Lobo: _(Throws back his head and shouts in agony.)_ WHYYYYYYYYYYYY?

            Mr. Resetti: That only leaves one more survivor! Hee hee! Jason! Kill the wolf! KILL HIM SOME DEAD!

            Jason: _(Trudges towards Lobo, who now sees Jason and runs as if his little fluffy tail is on fire. Lobo runs through the woods, putting a fair amount of space between him and the hockey-mask-wearing killer. He tries to find the entrance to the camp, but finds himself at the edge of the lake. Jason has somehow caught up to him, cornering him.)_

            Mr. Resetti: _(Burrows his way to wear Jason and Lobo are standing, grinning evilly.)_ Ha ha! You fool! You've got nowhere to run now! Now, you will die!

            _(Suddenly, the film projector has broken down, and the film reel splits and tears.  It is Rover the cat we see peering over from the side in from of the screen, not Totokeke.)_

            Rover: Um, due to some technical difficulties, we are unable to finish this chapter. Trust me, the ending is really good! Sorry to leave you hanging, but we'll get this fixed as soon as possible. The drunken monkeys handling the projector aughta get this fixed in no time.

            _(We cut to the drunken monkeys, who are drinking whiskey and banging on the broken projector with rocks. They are making a lot of loud, shrieking monkey noises.)_

            Rover: Um, yeah. I don't sing, so, uh, just look out for the tenth and final part of Suffer the Little Animals! Meow!

            


	10. Part Ten: Something Like a Conclusion

Suffer The Little Animals

The Tenth and Final Part

            _(We see Rover again; he has stepped in front of the screen. He clears his throat.)_

            Rover: Okay, We had some technical difficulties with the projector, but I think it's fixed now. Unfortunately, we had some problems with the first repairman…

            _(Flashback to the first repairman, which is a skinny black guy with funky gray hair, wielding a mallet and smashing the projector to little bits as the drunken monkeys screech in terror.)_

            Repairman: I AM… REPAIRMAN-MAN-MAN-MAN-MAN-MAN! Hoo-wa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha! _(Smashes the projector some more.)_

            _(We go back to the present, and Rover is still in front of the screen. Duh.)_

            Rover: But, thanks to some scotch tape, staples, a duck, and some random man we found on the street that only speaks German, we've got it working again, at least until the story ends. ROLL FILM! _(Steps out of the way, and the film starts to roll again.)_

            _(Jason and Mr. Resetti, disguised as Jason's mommy, have Lobo cornered on the edge of the lake.)_

            Mr. Resetti: Ha ha! You fool! You've got nowhere to run now! Now, you will die! _(Pauses.)_ Wait, I thought I just said that.

            Lobo: Who gives a fudge? This story has been going downhill since before it was even written.

            Mr. Resetti: Ah, well. _(Points his pickaxe at Lobo.)_ Kill the wolf, Jason!

            _(Jason starts to come towards Lobo, his machete raised threateningly.)_

            Lobo: WAIT!

            Jason: _(Stops in his tracks, confused.)_

            Lobo: You can't kill me! I'm an endangered species!

            Jason: _(Looks back at Mr. Resetti.)_

            Mr. Resetti: He's just saying that to befuddle you, my boy!

            Lobo: "Befuddle?"

            Mr. Resetti: SHUT UP! _(To Jason.)_ Kill him! Don't listen to him!

            Lobo: _(Looks around nervously as Jason slowly advances. Jason seems to be moving even slower and slower with every step he takes. A snail passes by Jason by. Lobo looks down at the ground and sees a rock by his paw. He sees his opportunity, picks up the rock, and throws it.)_

            Mr. Resetti: _(Is hit in the head with the rock. His wig is knocked off in the process, exposing Mr. Resetti's hardhat.)_

            Lobo: _(To Jason.)_ LOOK, YOU DUMB PUDDING, LOOK!

            Jason: _(Turns around to see Mr. Resetti sans wig. Tears well up in his eyes behind the mask.)_

            Mr. Resetti: …Oh, poopie.

            Jason: _(In his anger, he impales Mr. Resetti on his machete, lifts him up into the air, and swings the machete towards the lake, sending Mr. Resetti flying over the lake, and splashing down into it on the far side of the camp.)_

            Lobo: Wow.

            Jason: _(Thinks "Jason only want love.")_

            Lobo: Well, that was… memorable. I really should be going now, gotta visit my aunt… in Tibet… so, see ya! _(Starts to walk off.)_

            Jason: _(Steps in front of Lobo, obviously still a tad peeved.)_

            Lobo: _(Silently prays to the gods for the salvation of his soul.)_

            Jason: _(Raises his machete over his head, but a whistling noise is heard overhead, along with screaming. Suddenly, Donald Trump, who had been knocked in orbit in Part Six, has finally fallen back to earth, and knocks Jason back into the lake with the force of a thousand fat people. The splash in the lake it really big. You know, I once threw this really big rock into a lake, and it made this big splash, but this splash is, like, a bazillion time bigger than that. It's really awesome.)_

            Lobo: _(Peers down into the lake, and sees no sign of Jason. Satisfied, he runs like a dog who runs away from things to the Camp Crystal Lake entrance, where he is greeted by a little police car.)_ THANK YOU, LORD! 

            _(There are two officers standing by the car; a drowsy-looking bulldog and another dog that looks kind of like a collie that walks as if he has something riding up his butt.)_

            Bulldog: H-he called me his Lord, I think…

            Collie: Oh, no he didn't, Booker. _(To Lobo.)_ Hello, sir, how can we help you on this night?

            Lobo: IT WAS HORRIBLE! There was this really crazy hockey goalie named Jason, and he killed everybody! I'm the only one still left alive! He impaled animals and burned animals and all sorts of bad… stuff.

             Booker: That sounds bad… doesn't that sound bad, Copper?

            Copper: It does indeed. So, where is this irate athlete?

            Lobo: Well, Donald Trump came down from outer space and knocked him into the lake! You should have seen the splash. It was bigger than a breadbox… _(Pauses.)_ Wow. I'm talking like Blanca.

            Copper: Blanca?

            Lobo: Yeah, the cat who had this face that comes off, and you always had to draw her a new one. Jason killed her.

            _(Copper and Booker exchange puzzled glances.)_

            Copper: _(In an Irish accent.)_ An' Oi s'ppose ya saw wee lil' leprechauns runnin' aroun' an' stealin' people's underwear?

            Lobo: Huh? No! I'm serious! And there was this Scottish terrier that had warned about what was going to happen before it even happened! 

            Booker: He's n-n-nuts.

            Lobo: _(Mockingly.)_ And you're in-in-incompetent!

            Copper: Back off, mofo, or I'll beat you like your name was Rodney King!

            Lobo: Are you threatening me? I'm reporting a crime!

            Copper: You're a loony.

            Booker: L-let's lock him up in the loony bin.

            Lobo: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? I'm being serious here! Now, you two better take me to your commanding officers, or I'm gonna hafta go ninja style on your smart asses. _(Strikes a ninja pose.)_

            Copper: _(Whacks Lobo with his nightstick, and is soon joined by Booker. They punch and kick Lobo in his head and groin as the sun rises over the lake.)_

            _(We cut to Totokeke, who is strumming his guitar. We can still hear the sounds of Lobo being beaten by the police. Totokeke doesn't really seem to care one way or another.)_

            Totokeke: _(Sings.)_

            Lobo was the last to live,

            And so, our story ends.

            Until they make the sequel,

            We say, "Goodbye!" my friends!

            IN THE NEXT EPISODE…!

            _(Cut to Jason, rising out of Crystal Lake, looking mad.)_

            _(Cut to Mr. Resetti, wearing a red and green striped Christmas Sweater and a fedora, his face horribly burned, but still wielding his pickaxe.)_

            Mr. Resetti: Welcome to Prime-Time, bitch!

            _(Cut to an anteater showing a dead parrot to Tom Nook.)_

            Anteater: This parrot is no more! It has ceased to exist!

            Nook: No, it hasn't.

            _(Cut to Mr. T beating up a hoard of kitties.)_

            Mr. T: I pity da foo'!

            _(Cut to Donald Trump.)_

            Donald Trump: I'm back, mutha-fuggahs!

            _(Cut to a tombstone that is marked "Here Lies Blanca, R.I.P., and we see a paw shoot out from the grave.)_

            _(Cut to a gorilla in a trench coat, walking past a bunch of bunnies that are all in black suits and wearing black sunglasses.)_

            Smith-Bunny: Mr. Anderson, we missed you.

            Totokeke: _(Voice-over.)_ Yessir, all of that and more, in the next episode in this series… RESETTI VS. JASON!

            ~Fini


	11. Author's Shout Outs and Thank Yous

Suffer the Little Animals

Author's Shout-Outs and Thank-Yous

            Thank you Lain/Toxic Ginger/Pooky z Great, or whatever you call yourself nowadays, for just being an incredible writer, and being the source of inspiration for the title of this horrible mess. If you people haven't read her Nightmare on Elm Street story "Dream a Little Dream of Me" (which is named after an awesome song by Louie Armstrong) you should read it.

            To the following bands, who have provided the "soundtrack" for this so-called story: Outkast (duh), A Perfect Circle, Radiohead, Korn, Rob Zombie, Nirvana, Nine Inch Nails, Live, and Audioslave. I'd also like to thank Rage Against the Machine and System of a Down, who I didn't really listen to while working on this, but are cool bands anyway. 

            I'd also like to thank all the writers of all those hyperactive fan fictions who write in script form because they're too lazy or not able to pay attention long enough to write in prose. You served as the inspiration for this format. You guys rock.

            Many thanks to Victor Miller, who, according to my sources, created Jason and invented the solar powered washing machine. I owe you, man.

            An Extra-Special Thank-You to the creators of "Animal Crossing" over in Japan. You mad little geniuses, you. If I had any technological know-how, you could bet I'd be trying to make my own video games, too. I respect you for that.

            Thank you, Shakespeare. "Othello" and "A Midsummer Night's Dream" are two of my favorite plays ever. I hope I didn't make you roll in your grave. Sorry.

            A shout-out to my homie Donald Trump, who has his own show; I think it's called "The Apprentice," or something. Mostly, thank you for having such a funny name.  I mean, I just hear the name "Donald Trump," and I just go into a fit of insane giggling. 

            Thank you, my Dark Lord Robert Englund. I shall continue to make weekly sacrifices of only the purest virgins to both you and the soul of Kurt Cobain, but lately, he's gettin' a bit stingy on lending me his power to summon the bees. I shall have to spank him for that.

            Major props to my dawg, Israel, in New York. You have given me so many great ideas for my stories and my comics. Remember, children, snorting bunnies kills 12 billion people every day. That's twice the population of earth.

            I thank my doggie, Zeus, for putting up with me every day. Lord knows you need an iron will in order to do that.

            All hail the wonderful Hershey's Inc., for they make life worth living, especially when one is PMSing. 

            My eternal gratitude is extended to all those who have reviewed my story, even that one playa-hata who dissed my Shakespearean chapter. You laughter amuses me, but then again, so does your pain. 

            And finally, thanks to anyone else I may have missed, including Jhonen Vasquez, Monty Python, and the writers of All That, for just giving me crazy ideas. When I am on the news someday, the experts will probably lay the blame on you. Thanks.

            Peace, ya'll.

            ~Tuesday Mourning


End file.
